


Breaking Hearts

by Fujiwara_no_Seimei



Category: Hikaru no Go
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-02
Updated: 2011-06-02
Packaged: 2017-10-20 01:34:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/207386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fujiwara_no_Seimei/pseuds/Fujiwara_no_Seimei
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hikaru babysits his cousins once a week, but his heart breaks every night.<br/>In turn, so does Akira’s.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. No matter how many times you see him cry, it never hurts any less.

The first time it happened was the hardest for Akira.

"Don't go. Please."  
Akira rolled over on his futon. It took him a minute, in his half-sleep, to remember that Shindou was sleeping over– was in his room with him.  
"Please, don't leave."  
Hikaru's voice was quiet and ragged at the edges.  
"Shindou," he called gently. "Shindou, wake up."  
"No, please. I'll let you play."  
In a combination of exasperation and sympathy, Akira crawled across the floor and hovered over his rival. Hikaru's face was furrowed in anguish.  
"Shindou. Wake up, you're having a nightmare."  
"Sai," Hikaru cried, tears falling down his cheeks. Akira's heart caught in his throat at the word, suddenly realizing he was witnessing something very private, something he should not be witness to unless he could bear betraying Hikaru's confidence.  
"Sai, come back. I'll let you…"  
Akira put his hand on Hikaru's chest. Didn't know if he was doing it to free himself of the obligation of knowing about something he wasn't supposed to know, or to relieve Hikaru's intense suffering. But he did, for whatever reason, shake his rival gently and urgently.  
"Shindou! Wake up."  
It was enough, and Hikaru's hands were on Akira, wet eyes wide, chest heaving. Staring at his rival, his friend. Light from a full moon painting Akira's skin with a comforting glow. For just a moment, he thought those almond shaped eyes and powder-blue, moonwashed skin might have been Sai's.  
"Touya…?"  
"You were having a nightmare, Shindou," he said, sternness hiding the relief creeping into his voice.  
"I– I'm–" he said, stuttering as he sat up, wiping his eyes with his sleeves. Suddenly looking like he was twelve again.  
"It's okay," Akira said, putting his hand on Hikaru's arm. "Don't worry about it."  
Hikaru looked Akira in the eyes for a few beats, saw him looking beautiful and gentle in a way he never looked by daylight. Closed his eyes and leaned forward, resting his forehead on Akira's shoulder.  
"You–" Akira began, surprised.  
"Just for a second," Hikaru whispered, voice still hoarse. "I need to– Just for a little while. Please."  
So Akira let Hikaru relax into him, running his hand up and down Hikaru's arm a few times, gentle and platonic, while Hikaru's breath returned to a normal rhythm. He patted his hand in a nervous, friendly way on Hikaru's before giving in and tilting his head over to rest on his rival’s.

They sat like that for a long minute, until Hikaru considered himself recovered, mumbled an embarrassed thank you and turned away from Akira's loose embrace.

Akira didn't stand up right away, gaze lingering over his rival, his friend. And Hikaru didn't want to look, knew what he would find if he did, but he could only stand being stared at for so long. So he rolled over and lifted his head, and found Akira gazing away from him, into the darkness of the room, looking as though he had taken some of Hikaru's depthless loneliness onto himself.

•°

Akira never demanded answers, Hikaru had long realized, in the nine years since he'd promised to tell Akira the truth. There were moments, usually when the topic of Shusaku came up, or when Hikaru got that particular sad look on his face, that he saw the desire for answers light up behind Akira's eyes. But Akira always kept his mouth closed. Always waited. Was so very patient, for a man who'd spent half his life chasing all of the other things he'd wanted so relentlessly.

Hikaru appreciated this. Moreso now, since he kept having nightmares and Akira kept _being there_ , rousing him from the recurring terror of being left by Sai, being there for him to hold on to until the violent loneliness melted away and the reality of things, that Akira _was there_ and that he was not alone at all, came back to him.

Hikaru was sure he had shouted Sai's name in his sleep. More than once. Knew it was cruel, it was practically taunting Akira, and yet Akira never asked questions. Martyred himself, caring for Hikaru so unconditionally while Hikaru subconsciously obsessed over someone else. Holding Akira’s hand while he shouted another man's name.

Sai had always been between them in some capacity or another, bringing them closer and closer together, but always keeping them an arm's length apart.


	2. No one said he couldn't pick and choose the parts of the game he wanted to play.

"It's me," Akira called, entering Hikaru's apartment. He pulled off his shoes with the hand that was not holding up the takeout bag, when the familiar sound of children's laughter emanated from down the hallway.

"Hear that?" he heard Hikaru growl. "Big bad scary Touya is here! Better get into bed before he gets you!"  
Excited squeals were followed by a blur of children darting across the hall, after which Hikaru stepped out and grinned at his rival, hands on his hips.  
Akira rolled his eyes. "Since when am I big, bad, and scary?"  
"Since always," he answered, matter of factly. "I'm just going to read them a story and tuck them in. You want to put on some tea and I'll meet you in the sitting room?"  
Akira nodded and Hikaru turned to chase the children into his bedroom. He proceeded into the kitchen, placed the food bag on the counter, and filled the kettle. He didn't need to ask where the glasses were, didn't need to ask which tea Hikaru wanted. He knew. Had known for years. This kitchen was as familiar as his own.

Down the hall, Hikaru wrestled his cousins into bed. Was anxious not to leave Touya waiting for their nightly game, but the young Shindou relatives were not so easily subdued. It took two fairytales and a mangled lullaby before Hikaru could make a clean escape.

 

•°

"Your ramen's getting cold," Akira said, looking up from his _Go Weekly_.  
"You got me ramen?" Hikaru said, smiling wide and bounding over to the table to unwrap his bounty. Not in the least concerned that the fat was congealing in a thick layer on the top of the broth.  
"Mm," Akira replied. "You had that tournament roster planning meeting until seven, right? And I know the kids come over at seven-thirty, so I figured you wouldn't have had a chance to eat. Especially since those things never end on time."  
"You're amazing," Hikaru said, only because _I love you_ would have been too strong a sentiment.   
"You're welcome. Hurry up so we can play," he waved his hand at Hikaru as he proceeded reading, hiking the paper up maybe a little higher to hide his face.

•°

"You can stay over, if you want," Hikaru said, exhausted after two beers, three games, and just as many arguments. "It's almost midnight."  
Akira stood up and looked him over. "It's okay, I drove here."  
"But–" Hikaru said, biting his lip.  
"Shindou?"  
"Nevermind," he said, laying down on the floor, frustrated.  
"I didn't drink anything," Akira said, still trying to make sense of Hikaru's apprehension to his departure. Thick as ever. "I'm fine to drive."  
"I know, I know," Hikaru mumbled, waving his hand in the air from behind the board. "Forget it."  
Akira frowned. As if.   
"What is it? Is there a reason I shouldn't go?"  
Hikaru sat up, perturbed. "I can't say it, so shut up already and go home!"  
Akira bristled. "Ugh. Fine."  
It took him less than a minute to find his shoes and coat and make it out of Hikaru's apartment fuming, leaving Hikaru to curse himself silly.

He wished that, for once, Akira would just agree to stay without having a damned _reason_ because Hikaru was not at all ready to say _because I have nightmares and you make me feel better._

Akira never made things easy for Hikaru. Then again, he probably deserved that much.


	3. You don't know how to hurt like he knows how to hurt.

"You read that one _last time,_ " the six year old whined, a week later.  
"I've read _everything_ last time, according to you, Sachi. Oh," Hikaru turned to the door to see Akira peeking in the bedroom to wave.  
"I'm here," Akira said. "I'll put on tea and see you in the sitting room when you're done."  
"Mommy told me to congrajalte you on winning a tidal!" the little girl shouted.  
"Thank you, Sachiko," he said, "Please thank your mother for me."  
"Alright, alright," Hikaru said, "let the _Meijin_ go make his tea. You really need to pick a story now."  
"We're tired of those stories," she moaned. "Right, Shun?"  
Her little brother nodded obediently.  
"But I don't have any others."  
“Why don’t you make one up,” Akira suggested, head still in the doorway.  
“What?” Hikaru balked. Then mouthed _You suck._  
"Yeah!” the little girl cried, bouncing. “Tell us one you made up!”  
"I don't think I'm very good at telling stories without a book," he said.  
"You have to!" She shouted. "Or we can't go to sleep!"  
Hikaru rubbed his hands through his bangs. "Fine. Fine, just lay down already."  
Akira chuckled as he trotted off to the kitchen. Surely this sort of thing was due punishment for the way Hikaru treated his own mother.

"Once upon a time, there was a fair princess named Hikaru... who lived with an evil stepmother...named Akira....uh... in the forest…" he began. The eruption of glee and tittering from the children assured that this was going to be a fan favorite for weeks.

•°

"Touya? Are you sleeping?" Hikaru said when he found Akira slumped over on his couch.  
"Mmm? Oh–" his rival replied, sitting up a little too fast. "I'm sorry, I–" he began, brushing off his shirt and straightening his hair, "I don't know why I was so tired."  
"Are you awake enough to play?"  
"Of course!" he said, almost truly offended as he kneeled in front of the goban, trying to rub the history of the cushion seam from his cheek.  
Hikaru smiled to see one of Akira brief moments of ill-collectedness.

"I never did pay you back for that bowl of ramen," he said, reaching into his goke to nigiri.  
"Pay me…? Shindou, you don't have to pay me back for a bowl of ramen. It cost 850 yen."  
"No that's not…" he began, realizing he'd said something out loud that he hadn’t meant to. "I don't mean…agh. Nevermind."  
Akira wanted to smile. Hikaru’s “thank you’s” were always sideways. It was part of being his rival. But the curve of his lip fell short. There were other parts of the rivalry that weren’t so admirable.

“Shindou. We’re getting old, you know.”  
“What? You’re twenty-four.”  
“You’re twenty-five. That’s a quarter of a decade.”  
“Are you having a mid-life crises already?” Hikaru teased.  
Akira answered him by slamming down a stone at tengen.  
“Shindou. Is it going to be another quarter of a decade of this?” There was a distinct crack in his voice, especially jarring because it was Akira’s voice, which was always firm and unwavering.  
"Touya?"  
“Of being expected to guess your whims so you don’t have to put your feelings at risk?" Why was it all coming out now, he wondered.  
"Of watching you cry at night and not being able to do anything about it? Do you actually, _honestly_ expect to make me watch you cry for another 25 years? Shindou?”  
“Touya...” Hikaru was shaking. This wasn’t right. It wasn’t right at all. Touya was angry. No, he was upset. No–  
“I cry too, you know.” He said it quietly. Very, _very_ quietly. Like his heart was breaking.  
Anything Hikaru wanted to say died in his mouth.

Of course Akira cried. He was only human. Well.

He’d forgotten that, hadn’t he?  
“Shindou?” Akira repeated, tears leaking into the lashes of his tightly shut eyes.  
“Touya, God,” Hikaru said, leaning forward and gabbing his rival by the shirtsleeves. “Touya, I’m sorry. I’m really sorry, I–” Hikaru found himself choking up too. He kicked the goban out of the way, pulled Akira into him, a full contact, full body hug that was too tight but could never ever be tight enough.  
“I can’t do it anymore.” Akira cried. “I can’t. I just– I don’t know how to hurt like you know how to hurt.”

How Hikaru knew how to hurt?

“Stay with me tonight, Touya.”  
“What?” he sniffed. “What?”  
“Stay here. Tonight. That’s what I want. I don’t care if you drove and if you’re perfectly capable of driving back. Stay here. With me.”  
“I have to,” Akira sniffed. “I didn’t bring my car.”  
“God,” Hikaru whispered into his rival’s neck. He was going to accomodate him anyway. Planned on staying anyway. Planned on suffering through Hikaru’s suffering without knowing how.

Hikaru leaned up, looking his rival in his wet, red-rimmed eyes. Akira turned his gaze downward, away from Hikaru. Tried to wipe his face but Hikaru hands were tight on his wrists. “I don’t want you to learn to hurt the way I hurt. Not you. I’ll fix it. Okay? I’ll make it better.”  
He let go of Akira’s arms, let him adjust himself.  
“There’s a futon in the spare room, I’ll clean up and–”  
“You can clean up tomorrow,” Akira said low, voice raspy. His hand tugged on Hikaru’s sleeve. “I don’t know how to be alone when I’m sad like you do either.”

So Hikaru followed Akira into the spare room, sneaking a glance into his own bedroom at the children to make sure they were still asleep as he walked by.

Dragged by the sleeve like a parent being led to the closet where a fearful child wants them to check for a monster.

Hikaru was done breaking Akira's heart.


End file.
